


there ain't no room baby, in this home of ours (but maybe i'll make an exception for you)

by cowboygirlfriend



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Charity as a reluctant cat person, F/F, Fluff, Vet Vanessa in full swing, accidental pet acquisition
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-12 20:28:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21482374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cowboygirlfriend/pseuds/cowboygirlfriend
Summary: Charty’s going to kill her. She needs to come up with a game plan. Fast. A way to convince Charity to let this little guy come home - just for a while. While he grows up and gets ready for adoption. She thinks on it while she gently prepares a cage for the little guy with everything he needs for now, already mentally calculating how much formula she’s going to need to take from the practice tonight.orVanity accidentally acquire a kitten
Relationships: Charity Dingle/Vanessa Woodfield
Kudos: 61





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I actually wanted to have this finished by the break up last week but then school got in the way. Sorry the first chapter is so short, I wasn't entirely happy with it so i decided to split it up. i hastily rewrote this first chapter on the way home so any mistakes made are my own.

She’s seen it a hundred times before, she has. Par for the course of being a vet really, strays and road accidents happen in Emmerdale quite often: cats, dogs, horses, sheep, even a runaway chicken once. It’s just that usually the animals are adults - not a kitten that seems to have no mother in sight. At least that’s what Bob had said when he came rushing in to the practice, beside himself with panic and insisting he looked around for the kitten’s mother to see if she was also injured, but he was just so worried about the little one. Vanessa examines the little guy - judging by his weight and size he’s still very young, his eyes are open but he doesn’t seem to be responding to sound, probably about two maybe two and a half weeks old - Vanessa continues to gently inspect him for wounds, doing her best to shield him from the bright light of the exam room. Remarkably, he doesn’t appear to be injured. At all.

“Bob.” She says, no reply. He’s too busy fretting. “Bob.” She’s more firm this time.    
  


“Vanessa?” He stops his fretting and looks at her.

“You’re sure you hit this kitten?”

“Well I -” he stops and thinks for a moment, “I-no. I was driving on my way back from Hotten and my car hit something, I got out and when I was all I heard was him screeching on the side of the road. Terrified I had killed him, I was!”

“He’s fine, Bob.” She shakes her head. “You’ve not hit him.” She strokes the soft patch of fur between the cat’s eyes and he quietens down a bit - but not by much. “His mother was probably feral, sensed danger and abandoned him and the litter. Go show Paddy where you found him. Might be others.” She would shove him out the door herself if her hands weren’t occupied with a tiny ball of fluff. 

She wonders to herself if they’ll find anything. There’s one thing she knows for sure though, regardless of if they find his littermates or not, he has to be bottle-fed. He’s got at least two weeks left of bottle feeding left before he’s ready to even try bottle feeding. He’ll need nighttime feedings and stimulation, not to mention help with the not so savoury parts of being a tiny little kitten barely in control of your own bodily functions. 

She briefly wonders if maybe Paddy would be able to take him back but soon realises that there’s absolutely no way Chas would put up with a kitten screaming bloody murder above The Woolpack. Rhona isn’t really a cat person, not at the best of times but especially not now with everything she’s got going on. There’s no danger she’d let Pearl take care of him or any of his potential littermates. They need someone with proper training anyway.

That’s that sorted then. He’d just have to go home with her. Just until he’s well and old enough to be put up for adoption. This isn’t technically going back on the no pets rule they’d agreed on when they moved in together. This is just bringing work home. Temporarily. 

Charity’s going to kill her. She needs to come up with a game plan. Fast. A way to convince Charity to let this little guy come home - just for a while. While he grows up and gets ready for adoption. She thinks on it while she gently prepares a cage for the little guy with everything he needs for now, already mentally calculating how much formula she’s going to need to take from the practice tonight. Assuming that Paddy and Bob don’t find any other kittens. Then it hits her, right when she’s looking out the window in the animal holding room. She needs to convince Charity that this isn’t permanent by giving him a ridiculous name, something so ridiculous that they can’t possibly get attached. Maybe even something that even the mere mention of will have Charity rolling her eyes. Of course, people used to do it all the time at uni - don’t name it, don’t get attached.

She smirks to herself as she spots the perfect name for the little guy as she continues to look out the window. Recycling bins. Charity hates recycling bins. Not the concept of recycling itself - just the bins. Too complicated she says, having to separate out all of their rubbish. Vanessa has the sneaking suspicion the fact that Charity is always having to rush out in the morning before it’s collected because she forgot something, or she forgot to take it out to the street the night before. Charity’s not a morning person, especially when she’s rushing out to the street in her slippers when it’s barely light outside in the freezing Dale winter. 

Yes, it’s perfect.

Recycling bin the kitten, she mentally christens him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so sorry this didn't go up yesterday! this chapter is a better length. again, this was written quickly and without a beta, so i apologise for any mistakes! i've never raised a kitten so most of the caretaking aspect is based purely on some research i did specifically for this fic.

She’s still not entirely sure what step two is when Paddy returns without Bob. Also without kittens. Looks like Recycling Bin is an only child from now on. “No other kittens then?” She starts nonchalantly, even though it’s obvious from the lack of other kittens.

“No.” He shakes his head. 

She makes a non-committal noise of agreement somewhere in the back of her throat. 

“Erm, Vanessa?” He looks at his feet, shuffles them in that awkward way that he does. 

“Yes, Paddy?” She looks up at him. He’s still fidgeting.

“The kitten...is young.” He looks at her, expecting her to know where he’s going with this. Which she does, of course she does. “He needs hand-fed.” He keeps looking at her, his eyes widening a little as realisation sets in. “We can’t keep him here overnight. He needs fed and...erm, other stuff.”

She knows that. Of course she knows that. They both know that she does. She waits for him to connect the dots. “Yep, I know Paddy.”

“Right. It’s just that...well, I can’t erm, well I can’t take him. Y’know.” He’s pretty much full-on staring at her now. It doesn’t usually take him this long to catch on but she supposes he’s been a little pre-occupied lately. 

“Know that too.” She says, giving him a small nod.

“So you’re taking him, then?” 

She nods.

“So, Charity agreed to let you take a stray kitten home?” His eyebrows shoot up and his voice goes all high-pitched, he’s terrible at hiding his surprise, which is fair. Charity isn’t exactly known for being a cat person, or a dog person, or a pet person. They have a ‘no pets’ rule, it’s unspoken, but it’s there. This is different though - Recycling Bin - he’s not a pet. They’re just taking care of him until he’s old enough to take care of himself and be adopted into a nice, loving forever home. It’s just a few weeks, a couple of months tops.

“Not exactly...no.” Now she’s the one with the elevated voice, smoothing her hands down the side of her jeans, suddenly fascinated by the feel of the paperwork on the table. 

“Haven’t told her, ‘ave you?” he asks.

“No,” she cocks her hand at him, “but I have a plan!” She tries to reassure herself that she actually does have a plan, but realistically so far all she has is a one-step idea. “Gave him a ridiculous name and everything!” She nods and smiles at him, like that will get him to agree that this will work.

He seems to be considering it. “What’d you name him?”

“Uh...Recycling Bin.” She clears her throat.

He nods, crosses his arms over his chest, cocks his head at her. “What else’ve you got, then? In your plan.”

“That’s it so far.” She winces.

“Vanessa!” His voice has gone high pitched and he draws it out, almost like a whine. 

She groans and leans her elbows on the table. He’s right, she needs a better plan than ‘give him a stupid name and hope for the best.’

  
\---

As they pull up outside she can see the light on in the living room, a soft blue glow being reflected on the window, she can’t quite make it out but she guesses it’s probably Johnny and Moses watching paw patrol. It was Charity’s turn to pick the kids up from nursery today. They’ll have to go to bed soon, she realises as she checks the time on the dashboard. She’s home later than usual, had called Charity to let her know earlier so she’s probably already suspicious. The extra time was supposed to help her come up with a plan, a better plan. It didn’t work, she still has absolutely no idea what she’s going to say. She takes a glance at the crate secured with a towel over it and a seatbelt that Paddy had helped her load into the car before she left earlier. She hopes she has time to tell Charity before Chas coaxes it out of him.

She gets out. She struggles with her practice bag a bit - it’s heavier than normal with all of the formula in it and it takes her a second to get used to the extra weight again. She unclips the seatbelt from around the crate and pulls it out and lays it gently on the ground, grateful not to hear any sounds coming from it - poor thing had a hell of a day and for the first time today he’s quietly napping it off. She knows that it won’t last long when she gets inside the house. She’s not worried about the noise waking him up, she knows that kittens don’t typically develop hearing until their third week and he’s not quite that old yet. She’s worried because young kittens often sleep for shorter periods but more often than adult cats - hunger often wakes them up. She doesn’t want chaos to start before she even has a chance to talk to Charity. 

She struggles to wrestle her keys back into her coat pocket after locking the car, gives out a deep exhale and steels herself before gently picking the crate back up. She makes her way slowly up the path and opens the door, grateful not to have to struggle with balancing the crate and hold her keys to open the door. 

The smell hits her first, sausage beans and chips - it’s Charity’s speciality. It’s the thing the kids love most from her (admittedly very limited) repertoire. Then the noise, definitely paw patrol. She doesn’t hear any of Moses or Johnny’s idle chatter though, a quick look to her left through into the living room tells her why - they’ve fallen asleep next to each other on the sofa. She stops for a minute and takes it all in, the sound, the smell, the sight - home. She will never get tired of the feeling of coming home to her family - Charity and the kids. She lets the feeling settle pleasantly in her chest, smiles softly to herself.

“Hiya.” She whispers as not to wake the kids, Charity has her back to her, in the kitchen putting plates and cups into the sink. Vanessa walks quietly further into the room, lowers the crate gently onto the side table they have there. “D’you think you could quickly put the kids to bed?” She asks, knows this will be easier if they don’t have two toddlers fawning over a kitten while she tries to explain this to Charity. 

“Why? They’re fine there for-” Charity turns around and sees her standing sheepishly next to the crate, “Vanessa, what is that?” Charity turns her attention to the crate, pointing and it and looking back at her with her brows furrowed and she crosses her arms over her chest, looking at her expectantly. 

“Funny story, see I-” 

She’s interrupted by Noah choosing now of all times to make his grand entrance. She hears him drop his bag and coat at the door and trod through to the living room, he’s halfway into the room before he notices the lack of noise. He looks up from his phone, looks directly at Vanessa, then at Charity, then at Recycling Bin’s crate. Vanessa can see the confusion on his face. No one says anything.

“ ‘S that?” He asks, looking at the crate. 

Recycling Bin lets out a tiny mew. They look at the crate; all three of them. Vanessa is horrified, Noah is confused, Charity looks like she can’t figure out what that sound even was. Then he mews again. And again. And again. Noah’s face lights up and he hurries over to them.

“We getting a cat?” he asks, excitement plain in his voice, bordering on being loud enough to wake Johnny and Moses. 

“No!” She rushes out, at the same time as Charity. “Noah, uh, take Johnny and Moses upstairs to bed please.”

He smirks to himself as he scoops them up, one in each arm, without waking them. He’s managed to get quite good at the not waking them part, she muses.

“Try not to drop ‘em, yeah?” Charity manages to get in, Vanessa knows that she’s just releasing some of the tension she’s feeling right now.

She still manages to her Noah’s huff of ‘that was one time!’ under his breath as he trudges upstairs, though.

There a few other mews and Vanessa briefly wonders if he’s hungry and she needs to feed him already, but they die down as quickly as they came.

“So…” She trails off, not sure what her next step is.

“Vanessa, tell me there’s not a cat in there.” Luckily Charity gets there first. Her features are schooled into place, she’s looking at Vanessa with intensity, but she’s not angry.

“There’s a kitten in there.” She had wanted to play it cool, try and coax Charity into it but when Charity looks at her like that there’s just no chance.

“We’ve talked about this, babe,” Charity closes the distance between them and takes Vanessa’s hands into hers, Vanessa can feel how warm they are and she immediately wants to give in and say she’ll find someone else, but she can’t. She’s the only qualified one that can right now, they’ll have to figure out the rest later. “No pets, we agreed.” 

They actually haven’t agreed, it’s more like an unspoken rule but she feels like bringing up this technicality won’t help her right now. The point is they never explicitly agreed. “I know. But he’s not a pet. He’s a stray Bob thought he hit but he didn’t and he’s too young to fend for himself and we need to take care of him until he’s old enough to be adopted. It’ll just be for a few weeks. See.” She frees one of her hands from Charity’s and leads them over to the crate, peeling up the towel so they can look inside. “He’s only about two weeks, he just needs to be bottle feed and stuff for a few weeks so that we can find a home for him. Plus it’d be good to teach the kids a bit of responsibility eh?” 

“Suppose.” Charity sighs deeply and Vanessa knows she hasn’t won yet. She’s grateful Charity hadn’t asked her to elaborate on what ‘and stuff means’. Probably better save that for later. “But you’d have to feed him.”

Vanessa nods, she suspected as much. “Naturally. Even gave him a stupid name so the kids wouldn’t get attached.”

Charity gets up and crosses towards her, fiddling with the lapels of the coat Vanessa still hasn’t taken off. “What’s ‘is name then?”

“Recycling Bin.” She says proudly. Charity rolls her eyes but Vanessa can see the tiniest ghost of a smile on her lips and it makes it so hard not to kiss Charity, so she gives in and kisses her lightly on the lips.

“Where are we gonna put him?” Charity asks with an exaggerated eye-roll and dramatic arm flail. She’s so dramatic, her Charity is.

“About that…” she’s always known that the fact that he has to sleep in the same room as them wasn’t going to go down well with Charity so she hasn’t really thought this far ahead. She chances a quick glance up at the ceiling in the vague direction of their room.

“No, no. Nonononono. ‘Ness no. He can’t sleep with us. No.” Charity whines. 

“Too late, you already agreed,” she plants a kiss on a frowning Charity, “carry this upstairs for me, will ya?” She asks as she hands Charity her vet’s bag so she can take the crate upstairs. She can feel Charity’s pout every step, but she knows that this time she’s won.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come and talk to me on [ tumblr ](https://redsdingle.tumblr.com/)


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